


Only in Dreams

by UnluckyMagician (Zendelai)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flashbacks, High School Reunion, Hux the Fashionista, Siri play mid-2000s throwback songs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22722559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zendelai/pseuds/UnluckyMagician
Summary: “So you’re telling me that you’ve organised this fifteen-year high school reunion so you have an excuse to hit on Poe Dameron.”Hux organizes a high school reunion that Ben knows his ex-girlfriend Rey absolutely will not show up to.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Kudos: 22





	Only in Dreams

“So you’re telling me that you’ve organised this fifteen-year high school reunion so you have an excuse to hit on Poe Dameron.”

Ben watched Hux lean back, eyes narrowing in discomfort. “Everyone knows that the ten-year reunion organized by the school is only for the stragglers who stayed in our pitiful hometown. This reunion will only be for the important people, the ones who deserve a real party, not one with red Solo cups and paper streamers.”

It was a balmy mid-June Friday evening, and Hux and Ben were seated in rooftop loungers at a new bar in the Entertainment District. They were able to keep their voices low amidst the quiet electronic music and the background hum of fellow businesspeople winding down from yet another long week. The lights of the city flickered around them like fireflies in the smog. 

Ben’s inquisitive brow raised in response. “Right, and the fact that your high school crush happens to be recently single and you’ve recently renovated your absurdly large penthouse -- which has roof access, I might add -- has nothing to do with your motives?”

The corners of Hux’s mouth turned down in a gentle frown. “Well that sounds less noble, doesn’t it?”

It was Ben’s turn to lean back in his seat, swirling the beer in his hand. “It just doesn’t seem worth it, Hux. You never cared about anyone from our year other than Poe and myself. Why don’t you just ask him out on a date?”

“That won’t be embarrassing at all,” Hux sniped back. “What do you suggest, I send Poe a Facebook message, ‘I know that we haven’t spoken in five years and I spilled my beer all over you at our ‘real’ reunion and we’re only friends on Facebook out of nostalgia but I noticed your status recently changed to single and I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place for ramen and a good fuck?’” 

With a smirk, Ben shrugged. “It is Poe, after all. I think he’d be more responsive than you think.”

“And don’t act like you aren’t pleased about the idea,” Hux added, wagging his finger at Ben. “I invited everyone from our old group. Everyone.” 

Ben’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he tried to smother his surprise with a cough. “She won’t come, of course. Don’t be ridiculous. Last I heard she was in Istanbul.” 

Feigning nonchalance, Hux’s gaze flickered past Ben’s shoulder to the bartender, who he waved down for another drink. “I’ve known you for twenty-five years, Ben Solo. If there’s even a slim chance that she’ll be there, you will be.”

For the next two weeks, Ben tried to brush away thoughts of the reunion. The chances of her attending something as unimportant as a high school reunion were miniscule, and getting his hopes up in any fashion would only lead to disappointment. 

So as always he went to work, putting in ten- to twelve-hour days. As always, he went to the gym four days a week and attended Krav Maga classes on Saturday mornings. As always, he went for drinks on Friday after work with Hux and had Sunday brunch with his mother.

And every second of his routine was spent trying not to think about her. 

Both too quickly and too slowly, the Saturday of the reunion arrived. After Krav Maga he went to his barber for a haircut and a hot towel shave, all the while convincing himself that the point of a high school reunion was to look impressive for the classmates that taunted you for your big ears in high school,  _ not _ to look good for an ex-girlfriend. 

After arriving at home and spending an hour showering and choosing an outfit, his excuses began to ring more and more hollow.

After much agonizing (was a suit over the top? Of course it was, this wasn’t fucking court. Were jeans under dressed? Of course they were, he was a lawyer for fuck’s sake. Should he wear a tie? Of course not, he wasn’t going to the goddamn prom.) he settled on a light blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, tucked into a pair of black slim-fit slacks over black Chucks. He opted for contacts on the off chance that his glasses encouraged a new round of ear-related jokes. 

At four he left the house, taking his Model S to Hux’s. It was a brilliant day, warm but not hot, the sun bright even through his tinted windows. He normally would have rolled down the windows but he didn’t want to ruin the effect of his artfully-tousled hair. 

After the short drive to Hux’s he parked in one of his friend’s underground reserved parking spots, using his card to take the elevator to the penthouse. 

Hux’s home was absurdly opulent for a single man in his mid-thirties. It was open-concept with windows covering nearly every wall, the Toronto skyline visible in all its glory from every direction. Rather than having clearly defined rooms he had clusters of seating: cream leather loveseats in one corner clustered around a glass coffee table, and a dark suede sectional surrounded a custom redwood table in another. Hux’s recent interest in botany was shown by the plants scattered around his home, and the few walls that weren’t covered in glass had wide paintings composed of bold colours and daring brushstrokes. Ben made his way outside, following the wrap-around balcony to the stairs that lead to the private rooftop; there he found Hux, stringing lights around the hedges that surrounded the edges of the roof. His friend was working with careful determination, ensuring he wouldn't compromise his perfect outfit. Somehow, Hux made orange on a redhead look good in his well-fitted sunset-coloured vest and dress pants over a cream button-down, the look finished with russet oxford shoes. His hair was perfectly coiffed back, and his eyes were currently protected by round sunglasses.

“The place looks great,” Ben complimented. “And so do you. It’s almost as if you’re trying to impress someone.”

“Less talk and more work,” Hux grumbled back, his surly demeanor offsetting his dashing appearance. “Help me hang these lights.”

Together Hux and Ben hung metres of light strands around the hedges and wrought iron arches that rose above the rooftop. Once finished, they set up the bar and appetizers and cleared a corner for the DJ to set up. 

Hux kept Ben so busy that, for a couple of hours, he had almost forgotten about her.

Almost.

And then the buzzer rang with the first guests, and Ben felt his stomach drop with an uncomfortable swoop. 

The chances were infinitesimal. His hope was pitiful.

Besides, what, exactly, would happen if she defied all odds and showed up? 

Everyone would want the chance to speak with her, surely, using their loose connection as former classmates as an excuse to sneak a photo with her. She would want to spend what free moments she had available with Poe and Finn, not with him. Although she was polite so she would say hello to him. They would make small talk about their lives, and then she would move on. Out of his life, never to be seen again. 

So why was he so fucking nervous?

The first group of former classmates arrived; none of them had changed. They made small talk over beer and tapas; he pretended to be interested in their lives, and them in his. The second and third groups arrived, and he repeated the cycle. Over and over, the same conversation was had.

“Ben, so good to see you!” they said. In most cases he was amazed they remembered his name at all; those who did were often the ones who had coined his awful high school nickname “Big Ben” while they mocked his ears and nose and acne and overall awkward demeanor. 

“How have you been?” he’d ask in response, not really wanting to know, just wanting to be polite. 

They’d make small talk about Ben’s career as a lawyer, their own unremarkable careers, Hux’s beautiful penthouse. When those three topics were exhausted one of them would usually lose interest and move on to the next unremarkable classmate. 

He was beginning to feel regret about the whole affair and, judging by Hux’s pinched expression over Poe’s absence, thought that his friend was too. 

Ben was feigning interest in Mitaka’s career as a service coordinator when the elevator doors opened again. He looked over Mitaka’s shoulder to see who had arrived, and his heart stopped in his chest. 

There were three of them in the elevator. On the left Finn stood out as he always did, wearing a pink, purple, and grey striped rain jacket over grey jeans, his smile brightening the room. On the right was Poe, looking dashing in a dark bomber jacket over a Black Sabbath tee, his hair artfully curled and his beard neatly trimmed. 

And in the middle, looking more beautiful than anyone on this earth had a right to, it was  _ her _ . Her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded down to the middle of her neck, her golden eyes were rimmed by bold black eyeliner, and her bow-shaped lips were painted a soft pink. Her athletic figure was accentuated by the black, tight-fitted single-shoulder pantsuit that she wore over strappy black pumps. 

Her glow filled the room, and every pair of eyes turned to her.

It was Rey.


End file.
